


Later On, We'll Conspire

by doctorhelena



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Steggy, F/M, Steggy Kids, Steggy Secret Santa, director peggy carter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 23:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13200552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorhelena/pseuds/doctorhelena
Summary: All Peggy and Steve want for Christmas is a little uninterrupted time alone.





	Later On, We'll Conspire

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a gift for [@the-space-narwhal](http://the-space-narwhal.tumblr.com/) as part of the Steggy Secret Santa exchange on tumblr.

“Oh, you’ve put the Christmas decorations up. I was rather dreading that job.”

Steve grinned at Peggy over the two small heads burrowed against her chest. “Sarah was really helpful. And Phillip was really... enthusiastic.”

Peggy grinned back, kissing the tops of both heads and releasing their children to arms length. “Well, it all looks lovely,” she said, crouched down in her coat and heels, her travel bag dropped just inside the door.

“And see,” said Sarah, pointing above their heads. “Mistletoe!” Without warning, she launched herself at Peggy, Phillip following a split second later. Rather predictably, their heads collided with a painful-sounding thud.

In one practiced movement, Peggy shrugged out of her coat and shoes and scooped up her wailing son, examining his head, checking his pupils, and then cuddling him into calm as Steve did the same with their daughter. “This family has appalling luck with dramatic kisses,” said Peggy, once the wailing had mostly subsided into sniffles.

“Are you sure it’s not just you?” asked Steve, eyes teasing. Peggy made a face at him, but the fact was, it _had_ been she who’d initiated the kiss on the car outside Schmidt’s stronghold. Although, to be fair, it had been Steve who’d subsequently gone missing for seven long months, after crashing the bloody plane without bothering to give anybody his coordinates.

Steve raised an eyebrow, and suddenly Peggy wondered how long it was until bedtime, although she’d missed the children dreadfully. “I think in the long run things usually work out pretty well for us,” he said, and Peggy couldn’t argue, not with the armful of snuffly toddler burrowing contentedly into her chest, tangible evidence that they’d both made it through, against all odds.

After a moment, Sarah wiggled out of Steve’s arms, injury forgotten. “The tree! You haven’t seen the tree, mama!”

“Tree!” echoed Phillip, his tear-streaked face brightening as he squirmed down to join his sister, racing to the front room with that wobbly gait that seemed constantly on the edge of disaster. Peggy braced herself a little, but there was no crash, and no sound of a squabble, either. She glanced at the mistletoe and then sidelong at Steve, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

It had been far too long, with first Steve and then Peggy on back-to-back out-of-country missions, and she made an involuntary noise of protest when he pulled away, clearly listening for something. “We shouldn’t leave them alone in there for long,” he breathed against her lips, hands stilling against her bottom. “Phillip’s been really fascinated by your grandmother’s wooden ornaments, and you know what a good climber he - ”

And _there_ was the crash.

“Bloody hell,” said Peggy, following him into the front room. “They’re worse than the Howling Commandos. Thank God there are only two of them.”

*********

“Sarah’s still awake.” Peggy dropped down next to Steve on the couch and picked up her teacup. Leaning back, she rested her head on his shoulder and contemplated the tree lights, propping her feet up on the coffee table next to his. “The house really does look lovely.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Figured we’d get it done so we could all relax and enjoy Christmas once you got home.” She could feel him smiling against her hair. “Didn’t figure on having to redo so much of the tree. I should have known better than to let them alone in there at all when they’re still so excited about it. Neither of them ever really looks before they leap.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t know who they could have got that from.”

“Definitely not from either of us,” he said, nudging her ankle. “So, is there something you’d like to tell me about the mailman?”

Peggy set down her tea. “If you’re trying to seduce me, Rogers, you’re going about it in entirely the wrong way.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss the shell of her ear. She tilted her head back for better access, taking in a shuddering breath as he worked his way down toward the hinge of her jaw. “You know she’ll be out of bed,” she breathed after a moment.

He shrugged. “I’ll hear her coming.” Through Peggy’s half-closed eyelids, the lights of the Christmas tree blended together in a soft glow, the scent of pine needles reminding her of a time when their rare stolen moments risked being interrupted by Dugan or Barnes or HYDRA instead of their wandering four-year-old daughter.

She turned into Steve’s arms, boosting herself up into his lap. “Do you remember the time I’d been undercover in Poland and Dernier caught us behind that big tree near the rendezvous point?” she asked against his mouth, and he smiled.

“He gave me a big thumbs up, backed away, and never said another word about it,” Steve said, bringing his hands up to cup her jaw and working her mouth open with his own. “I’m still not sure if he noticed where my hands were,” he added thoughtfully.

She smiled against his lips again. “I’m fairly certain he did. But he was a gentleman about it.”

Things were progressing rather nicely, with Steve’s hands creeping quite close to where they’d been that day in Poland, when Steve suddenly stilled, listening. Peggy bit back a frustrated noise, and Steve sighed. “Sarah’s up. She’s rummaging around in Phillip’s room.”

Peggy set her shoulders. “I’ll go tuck her back in. You get ready for bed.” She pushed herself off his lap, straightening her clothing and smoothing down her hair, before going upstairs to meet her daughter in the hallway.

“Oh, hi mama!” said Sarah, rubbing her eyes with a theatrical yawn. “I guess I was sleepwalking.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Right into your brother’s room, where you happened to sleep-pick-up his fire truck?”

Sarah half-closed her eyes and thrust one arm straight out in front of her, the other still clutching the toy. “Yes,” she said, confidently. She was commendably tenacious at committing to a cover, Peggy had to admit, although she’d clearly inherited her acting skills from her father.

As if summoned, Steve came through the hallway on his way to the bathroom. He picked Sarah up, kissed her on the forehead, extracted the fire truck from her grip, and set her down facing in the direction of her bedroom. “There, now you can sleepwalk right back to bed.”

Sarah sighed. “Daddy.”

Since becoming a parent, Peggy was quite often grateful that her line of work had honed her ability to maintain a straight face. “Sarah Rogers, back in bed. Now,” she said, crisply, and followed her, tucking her in with a kiss. “There,” she said. “Now, it’s late, and Daddy and I are also going to bed, so close your eyes and dream of sugarplums.”

Sarah yawned, a real yawn this time. “I love you, mama. I’m glad you’re home.”

Peggy brushed back a dark curl from her daughter’s forehead. “I am too, darling.”

*********

By the time Peggy was finished in the bathroom, Sarah appeared to be truly asleep. Peggy peeked in on Phillip, snoring softly in his crib, then padded down the hall to the master bedroom, closing the door behind her. Steve was waiting for her, under the covers reading a book.

“Are you naked?” she asked, amused, as he set the book down on the bedside table.

“Maybe,” he said, waggling his eyebrows ludicrously. She slid under the covers and rolled on top of him with a sigh, arching into him as his hands slipped into her nightgown. “Thought I’d save a step. I know you must be tired.”

“Not too tired for a proper reunion. I - oh - I’ve missed this, Steve.” She kissed the corner of his mouth, trailed her lips across his cheek to his ear. “I’ve saved up rather a lot of adrenaline. It was quite the trip.”

She could feel him, already hard against her thigh, and she reached down, wrapping her fingers around him. He made a low, strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Me too. I - ah - actually, we should probably compare notes about the - ”

She bit his lip. “Later. Physical debriefing first.”

“Mmmph,” he agreed, his thumbs easing down the waistband of her underwear. She took in a shuddering breath. Oh God, it had been so long since they’d -

“Dada! DAAADAAA!!!” As the scream echoed through the upstairs, both Peggy and Steve froze, then Peggy let her head drop onto Steve’s chest with a thud.

“I’ll get him,” said Steve. “Sounds like another night terror.” He slid out from under Peggy and threw on his pajama pants and robe. “Don’t go anywhere.”

She huffed out a laugh. “I’ll be right here, Rogers.”

Steve’s efficiency strategy was clearly called for, so she divested herself of her nightgown and knickers and settled under the warm covers to wait for him.

**************

Steve carefully laid his sleeping son back down in the crib, tucking the blanket around him. The doctor had assured them that the night terrors were completely normal at this age, and Peggy had pointed out that this actually made Sarah the only member of the family who didn’t occasionally wake up frozen in panic, but somehow this didn’t make Steve feel any better about the whole thing.

Phillip was calm now, though, chubby hands flung haphazardly over his head, breathing slow and steady. Steve kissed the tips of his own fingers, pressed them to his son’s forehead, and crept silently out of the room. He peeked in on Sarah, who was wrapped around her stuffed tiger, mouth hanging open in exactly the way Peggy’s often did in sleep. Finally, he turned toward his own room, back to where Peggy was waiting.

Peggy was sound asleep.

She didn’t stir when he slipped out of his robe and slid back under the covers, and when he brushed an errant lock of hair away from her face she muttered something incoherent and more than a little annoyed before rolling over and snuggling into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. It wasn’t surprising that she’d conked out, really, given the long day she’d had, finishing up meetings in Europe before flying back over the Atlantic in Howard’s souped-up private jet.

Well, they were both scheduled to be in town through Christmas, and they even had some time off coming up. He tightened his arms around Peggy and lay half-awake, a little too hot and bothered to fall asleep, a little too comfortable to extract himself and deal with things on his own.

If his worst problem was Peggy Carter sleeping naked on top of him, he reflected, he really couldn't complain.

***************

“They’re both sound asleep,” reported Peggy the next evening, coming down the stairs to join him in the kitchen, where he was just putting away the last of the dishes.

They’d both had the afternoon off and had taken the children to the park, burning off their energy with sledding and snowballs before coming home, red-nosed and bright-eyed, to warm food, warm baths, and quiet books. Now Peggy was slipping improbably cold hands into his shirt and tugging at his belt loop. “Come on, Rogers, we may not have much time.”

“Oh, was there something you wanted?” he asked, sliding his hands under her sweater. She arched into him, her fingers clutching at his back.

“I believe we have some unfinished business to take care of,” she said offhandedly, the effect spoiled somewhat by a sharp intake of breath as he brushed a thumb across an already-hard nipple. “Steve,” she breathed, her fingers sliding under his waistband.

He hastily kissed her just in time to muffle the noise he made a moment later, and she let out a breathy laugh. “This location isn’t secure, agent. Follow me.” Halfway up the stairs she glanced back with a conspiratorial wink, and he was transported instantly back to a little-used corridor in the SSR bunker in London during the war.

“At least we can be pretty sure we won’t be interrupted by an air raid,” he said, pulling the bedroom door closed behind them.

“Phillip does a quite decent imitation of the sirens,” she said ruefully, unbuttoning her blouse and folding it neatly over a chair. She tilted her chin at him, unhooking her brassiere. “You’re far too fully dressed, darling.”

He grinned and unbuttoned his shirt. “Impatient, are we?”

She was watching him with almost exactly the look he’d once seen her give a bacon sandwich after weeks of K-rations. “Pragmatic,” she said, absently. He stepped in and kissed her, her fingers seeking out his belt buckle, brushing against him with a sure touch that was clearly not accidental.

“Peggy,” he said, a little strangled, as she pushed his underwear down over his hips and wrapped her hand around him. He could feel her smile against his lips.

“We can take our time later on,” she said, low and urgent, “but at the moment, I rather think - ”

The telephone rang.

Peggy closed her eyes and muttered something that might have shocked a sailor. “I have to answer it,” she said. “It could be - ”  

“I know,” he said, releasing her, and she moved around to the bedside table and picked up the receiver.

“Carter,” she said, as briskly and professionally as if she’d been caught fully clothed, doing the crossword. She frowned. “Good Lord, Howard, are you sure? We’ve had no intelligence suggesting - well yes, I suppose so. All right. How soon?”

Steve could see from her face that one of them was going to have to go into work.

“I suppose it had better be Steve,” she said, then raised her eyes heavenward. “Howard, you know perfectly well our children aren’t old enough to watch themselves. I’m afraid you only get one of us at this hour.” She hung up the receiver more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

Steve sighed. “I take it I’m suiting up.”

“I’m afraid so.” She gave him a quick, longing glance, then squared her shoulders. “Right, then. You’ve got ten minutes.”

He stared at her. “Ten minutes? You couldn’t have made it half an hour?”

“I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.” She crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

He realized a moment too late that he was leaving a thumbprint in his belt buckle. You know, you don’t always have to prove - ” He took a deep breath. “Peggy, I know there are a lot of idiots out there, but you’ve already earned the confidence of everyone who matters. It’s okay to say no once in a while.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Implying what, exactly?”

He glared back. “I’m implying that you worry a lot about what it will look like if you say I’m not available.”

“I can’t play favourites, Steve.”

“And that’s why I report to Howard, and not to you,” he said. “So it’s not actually your call.”

She turned to the closet and began yanking things off hangers. “A group of masked men is holding hostages with what appear to be Hydra energy weapons. You know very well how badly that could go, very quickly.” She flung his combat suit at him, and he caught it without thinking. “Don’t you think I’m just as frustrated as you?” she asked. “But we can’t let people be vapourized just because we want to finish - ”

“I _know_ ,” he said, through his teeth, setting the suit down with exaggerated care on the bed. At least their squabble was doing a decent job of killing the mood, he reflected as he eased himself back into his underwear. “I just - ”

Chilly silence descended. He dressed methodically as she slipped into her pajamas, handing him his shield without a word when he was ready, eyebrows knitted together, lips thin.

“I love you,” she said sharply, as he left the bedroom. “Please be careful.”

He sighed. “I love you too.”

**********

When Steve got in at 3 am, Peggy was awake. “I’ve delegated the debriefing to Agent Roberts,” she said. “I’m glad you’re all right.” Then she rolled over, facing her own side of the bed.

He was still a little annoyed with her too, so that was fine with him.

***********

By some miracle, Phillip slept until the unheard of hour of 7:00 the next morning, and when Peggy peeked into Sarah’s room she found her playing quietly with the purloined fire truck, an elaborate game in which a few of her smaller dolls were saving a building block city from her rampaging stuffed tiger.

“Morning, mama!” she said cheerfully. “I don’t know how the fire truck got here.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. “Well,” she said, “luckily it won’t be long before Phillip will be able to talk well enough to help us solve these mysteries.”

Sarah looked briefly horrified and Peggy grinned to herself as she headed into Phillip’s room and his morning nappy change.

With the children awake, her quarrel with Steve sat quietly dormant, tacitly set aside until a more opportune time. Sarah was past the age where it was possible to talk things out in front of her, even using coded language, and they’d long ago agreed to present a united front to the children, no matter their private disagreements.

This usually had the unfortunate effect of the children being given far more ice creams at the park than Peggy would have preferred. But now, as she sat at the table watching Phillip gleefully rip apart one of the Christmas-tree-shaped pancakes Steve had made at Sarah’s request, she felt glad of the excuse to push things aside for the good of the team, as it were. She and Steve were almost never out in the field together anymore, and once in a while it was good to be reminded that, even when they weren’t totally happy with each other, they always had each other’s backs.

Speaking of which, Steve’s back muscles were outlined quite clearly in the tee shirt he was wearing with his pajama bottoms, and Good Lord, they needed an evening alone with no interruptions.

So of course, tonight they were going to Howard Stark’s Christmas party. Naturally.

*********

Howard’s parties were extravagant at the best of times, and his Christmas parties ridiculously so. Still, it was a rare chance to get out together for a non work-related reason, and even though neither was really in the mood for a party, they’d already booked the sitter. And Howard always had good alcohol, if nothing else.

As they came in, Howard waved cheerily at them. “Steve! Peggy! Make yourselves at home! Enjoy the fondue!”

“Sod off, Howard,” said Peggy, wearily, and he grinned and turned back to his admirers. Peggy took a glass of champagne from a passing tray and downed it in two swallows.

Steve shrugged. “Honestly,” he said, “joke’s on Howard. Now that I know what it actually is, I really like fondue. I don’t really mind that he always has it on the menu.” He nodded across the room at Dugan and Barnes at the bar, and Peggy waved at Angie. Everyone was smiling, looking relaxed and festive.

Peggy sighed and stared at her empty glass. “Steve, I - ”

He snagged the glass from her and set it down on a side table. “Come dance with me.”

“All right,” she said, and allowed herself to be led out to the dance floor. Steve was a much better dancer than he’d been the first time they’d gone out, shortly after he’d been rescued from the ice. He had indeed stepped on her toes, several times, although she hadn’t minded in the slightest. More for his peace of mind than hers, they’d taken lessons before their wedding, the slight curve that was Sarah hidden beneath her loose dress, a secret noticeable only to the two of them.

The band was playing something fast now, and Peggy felt like a famished woman who had been given just a taste of her favourite food. Everywhere she was in contact with Steve felt electric, and as the song wound down and the band moved into a slower, contemplative song, she closed her eyes as their bodies moved closer together. “I’m sorry,” she said, quietly, resting her head on his shoulder. “I - maybe I have been sending you out when it isn’t strictly necessary. Somebody else could have handled that hostage-taking last night. And you’re right that it wasn’t actually my call to make.”

He squeezed her a little closer. “No, we didn’t know. If it really had been Hydra… we’ve just had a bad run lately. And I do understand why you have to be careful not to look like you’re giving me any special treatment, no matter what the actual chain of command is.”

She sighed. “Every attempt to give you special treatment lately has been rather thoroughly thwarted.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Well,” he rumbled into her ear, “Howard did specifically tell us to enjoy the fondue. Want to misinterpret him?”

She pulled back a little and looked at him. “God, yes.”

The room was crowded, and nobody seemed to notice them leaving. She took Steve’s hand once they were out of the ballroom, and pulled him down the hall, nearly bumping into Edwin Jarvis as they turned the corner. “Oh, hello Mr. Jarvis,” she said. “Steve and I are just looking for somewhere to have a private discussion about some... urgent SHIELD business that has... come up.”

Jarvis raised both eyebrows. “Might I suggest the bedroom at the far end of the hallway?”

“Thank you,” she said, politely, and Steve and Jarvis nodded at each other, Steve’s ears turning a bit red, and Jarvis’ lips twitching slightly.

“We should talk,” she said to Steve as they got to the bedroom, looking back down the corridor to make sure it was empty. “But at the moment, I suggest we postpone discussion in favour of a little action.” She pulled him inside and locked the door behind them.

**************

“Wanna take bets on who’s about to knock on the door with some kind of emergency?” Steve asked, but Peggy was already pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him, hiking up her dress, reaching for his belt buckle as their hips met. They both gasped, and Peggy arched back and thrust her hips against him again. God, he was already so close, and from the expression on her face she was right there with him.

“I don’t care,” she gasped. “We are not leaving this room until we have both been - ohhh - thoroughly - satisfied.” She finally got his belt open and reached into his pocket for the rubber he always kept there, ever since the unprepared evening that had resulted in Phillip. Her fingers were -  

“Peggy,” he breathed. “This might not last long enough to get the rubber on if you keep - ”

She slid forward a little. “We don’t have time to do it slowly. The sitter’s got to be home by midnight.” She squirmed against his chest. “Steve, I need - ”

He reached up to brush his thumb against one of the nipples he could see clearly through the fabric of her dress. “Slide up and take off your dress.”

He set his hands on her hips and tugged her a little farther forward, kissing the smooth skin at the top of her stockings, then trailing his lips up her inner thigh to the incongruously old pair of panties she was wearing. Her dress was halfway off her head, but when he dropped a kiss onto the rough cotton she made a noise that he was pretty sure they could hear down the hall at the party, even muffled through layers of dress fabric. “Sssh,” he murmured, his voice rumbling against her, and he grinned as she whimpered, still struggling to get out of the dress. He slid two fingers under the elastic and pushed it out of the way, and she finally got the dress over her head just in time to use it to muffle the sobbing climax she reached a few moments later.

She slumped against the headboard, and he pulled at her hips so she could lie on him instead. She buried her face in his neck, and took several long breaths. “Crikey O’Reilly, Rogers.”

His fingers played with her hair while she recovered. After a moment she wriggled a little, reaching down to free him from his underwear and sliding back a bit so she fit against him, rocking, and it was his turn to make a noise that might well have been heard at the party. She pulled away for a moment to root around on the bed for the rubber she’d dropped, and then with her usual efficiency she rolled it on, rid herself of her underwear, then let out a little sigh as he pushed inside her. Everything was happening ridiculously fast, but they needed fast right now, and neither of them was trying to make it last. She bit his lip hard as his climax crashed around him, and he could feel her reaching down between them, her fingers flying, and then she was collapsing on top of him, panting.

After a moment he raised one arm and looked at his watch. “I guess ten minutes would have been enough,” he said, eyebrows raised. She head-butted his chest, then rolled off of him to snuggle up to his side. He sat up and dealt with the rubber, then lay back down beside her, staring at the mirror that he’d somehow just noticed was on the ceiling above them.

She met his eye in it. “It isn’t fair to you,” she said, after a moment. “If you were married to someone else, with a young family, I would have thought a lot harder about whether to call you to work at 9 pm while you were officially on vacation.”

“It’s not that I mind when I’m really needed,” he said. “Well, maybe sometimes more than others.” She grinned at him in the mirror.

“We both have a talent for self-sacrifice,” she said, after a moment. “And I think you’ve been a little better at fighting it than I have lately.”

He kissed her temple. “I think we’re both doing pretty good, overall. But - we’re a family now. The world needs us, but Sarah and Phillip need us too. And we need each other, sometimes.”

She nodded. “I know.” She sighed. “I suppose I have my New Year’s resolution for 1951.”

“Not to let things get to the point where we’re reduced to sneaking out of parties to reconnect in one of Howard Stark’s creepy bedrooms?” he asked, grinning.

She snorted. “This mirror is ridiculous.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “To be honest, I didn’t notice it until after, but - ”

Peggy actually giggled. “Well, there wasn’t much time _during_.”

“You know, Howard’s bedrooms are always stocked with rubbers,” Steve said, propping himself up on his elbow, “and it’s still pretty early. Wanna find out what we look like from above?”

She smiled slowly and leaned in to kiss him.

***********

Howard raised both his eyebrows and then his fondue fork in an amused salute from across the room as Peggy and Steve re-entered the party, some time later. Peggy ignored him. “I’m ravenous,” she said, eyeing the buffet table.

“Me too,” said Steve. “Let’s go see if the guys left us anything.”

Peggy grinned and took his outstretched arm, and they threaded through the crowd towards the food.

Dugan was at the bar when they arrived at the buffet table.“You two were gone a while,” he said, coming up to them with a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. He grinned at them good-naturedly. “Don’t you have a bed at your house?”

“They have two little kids,” said Bucky, coming up behind them with Angie “They probably haven’t done the deed in months.”

“Oh, I think they’ve done it pretty recently,” said Dugan, with a smirk.

“Well, obviously I meant until just now,” said Bucky. Angie elbowed him, but her lips were twitching.

Peggy, who had been putting up with jibes like this from the Howling Commandos since early 1944, ignored them and piled her plate high. They still had over an hour before their time was up with the sitter, and the world seemed surprisingly crisis-free.

“Bet we still do it more often than you, Dum Dum,” Steve said, his mouth full.

“Ouch!” said Dugan, maiming a killing blow to the heart. “I’ll have you know, I’m very popular with the ladies.”

“That’s actually surprisingly true,” said Angie, and Dugan looked outraged.

“Surprisingly?”

Peggy grinned. Her life was chaotic, messy, and wonderful, and she wouldn’t trade it for anything. She felt magnificently relaxed, she was surrounded by old friends and good food, and when she went home at the end of the evening, it would be with Steve.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good Christmas.


End file.
